His madness is my magic
his throne doth call me home
his soul's upon my platter
his ship sail's in my ocean.
Rising tide bring me ashore to the land of my body.
Marry me to fly so high that I may truly see
the anchor's inside of me
the anchor's inside of me
the anchor's inside and outside of me.
Oh trusty guru keep me close
don't let me stray to phantom ghost's
root guru see my way through
to the other side of me.
Truth is there's no anchor, there is no boat.
The river rushes swiftly to the sea
I am barely afloat.
No rock to hold,
no fish to eat.
Only rain to quench my throat.
The sacred sun burns
that she may die
and rebirth in water, mountain, and sky
in rock, cave, and dolmen
in naked penetration.
The two swan mates upon the high lake
drip liquid light upon her sight
and clothe her tortured soul.
